


Howl

by whimsical_ramblings



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Other, Torture, Violence, fem!Ocelot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsical_ramblings/pseuds/whimsical_ramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ocelot gets interrogated for information concerning Motherbase, and refuses to cooperate</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just an excuse for me to write fem!Ocelot spitting blood in someone's face

Attacks on Motherbase were starting to become a common occurrence. They weren’t exactly what you’d call sitting ducks, but Big Boss had always had his fair share of enemies, and as they’d developed into one of the fastest growing mercenary units in the world, the Diamond Dogs name had become a target for a wide range of other militant groups. Everyone from the KGB to locally organized factions were a threat, and for the most part, Motherbase had more than enough resources to defend itself. However, that didn’t stop some things from slipping through the cracks.

Big Boss found Kaz standing on the lower level of the main strut after the latest attack, his left hand gripping his cane while his right hand, extended in front of him, gestured and pointed as he gave orders to the soldiers. One side of the strut had been badly damaged by explosives, and a group of newer recruits worked together to clean up the mess.

“Clear away as much debris as you can and tape this area off,” Kaz ordered.

  
The soldiers responded with a chorus of “Yes sirs!” and Kaz nodded at them, turning his head just in time to see Big Boss approaching him.

“Everyone accounted for?” he asked Kaz.

“Everyone that’s alive, more or less,” Kaz said. “A few soldiers were caught in the blast on the other side of the strut.”

“How many injured?” Big Boss asked.

Kaz took a moment to tally the numbers in his head.

“Thirty. Maybe more.”

Big Boss cursed inaudibly. They’d suffered greater attacks than this one, but having more than thirty soldiers out of commission would create problems in the future. He’d need to have Ocelot train up some of the incoming recruits in the meantime. Speaking of which…

“Have you seen Ocelot around?” he asked.

Kaz scanned the surrounding area briefly.

“Uh, no, I guess not. Not since things went to hell, anyway.”

Big Boss narrowed his eyes. Something about that didn’t feel right. Ocelot was always on hand shortly after any sort of attack or raid, eager to dictate cleanup. But he hadn’t seen or heard from her in a while now, not since the strut had been damaged. The noise and smoke had confused things, and Big Boss had assumed that they’d all just lost sight of each other. But now, it was clear that something was wrong.

“Radio to the other struts, tell them to look for any sign of her,” he told Kaz as he made his way off the platform. “Let me know what you find. If it’s nothing, I’m going off-site.”

“You don’t think something happened, do you?” Kaz asked.

“When it comes to Ocelot,” Big Boss said, glancing at Kaz over his shoulder, “it’s best to prepare for anything.”

*******

 

Ocelot awoke to a sharp, persistent ringing sound assaulting her already throbbing head, sending intense jolts of pain through her aching skull that only became aggravated when she opened her eyes and a bright florescent light flooded her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut again almost immediately, a groan welling up in her chest, and as the ringing faded she could hear the sound of muffled voices in front of her. She opened one eye carefully, her vision swimming slightly, and could barely make out the shapes of two soldiers standing in front of her. The ringing in her ears made it difficult for her to understand what they were saying, but it only took her a few seconds to discern that they were most definitely not speaking English. She trained her eyes on the patches on the sleeves of their uniforms, concentrating as the blurry lettering finally came into focus.

спецназ. Spetnsaz.

Ocelot suddenly became alarmingly aware of just what sort of situation she was in. Her hands felt numb, and when she tried to move them she realized that they were tied securely behind her. Her feet were bound as well, ankles tied to the front legs of the chair she was sitting on, forcing her knees apart. She shifted slightly, testing the strength of her bonds, and her movements caught the attention of the soldiers in the room. Their boots clicked against the floor as they walked up to her, and one of them leaned forward until they were eye to eye.

“Our guest is finally awake,” he said in English. His accent was thick, as though each word was a struggle to wrap his tongue around. He motioned to the soldier on his left who, Ocelot noticed, was wearing a mask, and in a flash of movement, the shock of ice cold water being poured over her caused her to gasp involuntarily, struggling against her bonds as she instinctively tried to start from her chair. The room she was in was hot, muggy, and thick with humidity, and the cold water left her skin feeling as though it were on fire, burning from the harsh contrast in temperature. She gasped for air as her lungs tried to inflate, and the man who’d spoken to her earlier grabbed her chin roughly to hold her head still.

“You looked warm,” he said with mock kindness. “And we wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Ocelot didn’t dignify his words with a response, staring up at him defiantly as his nails cut into her skin.

The man turned her head to the side and, unexpectedly, ran his fingers along her left temple, the gesture so gentle that Ocelot jerked her head  in an attempt to break his grip. The man’s grasp just tightened as he traced the area around her temple with his other hand, and when he pulled away, the fingers came back bloody.

“They did a messy job of dragging you here, didn’t they?” he asked. “This cut is rather deep.”

That would explain the blurry vision and the ringing from earlier, Ocelot thought. His hands caressed the side of her head again underneath the gash, and she felt a pit of anger begin to well up inside her. The touch was offensive in its intimacy, something she was unused to experiencing in these sorts of situations, but she kept her tongue in check.

“I won’t bother to explain why you’re here,” the man said to her. “And I won’t bother to explain who we are. If my intel is correct, I think you already know the answer to both of those questions.”

He stood up straight and released his hold on her chin, watching her for a moment as she shivered on the chair.

“You are in no position to be resistant,” he continued. “And I am hoping to get what I want before this situation escalates any further.”

Ocelot remained silent. She’d learned enough from her time in the GRU to know that giving away anything that could potentially help them weedle more information out of her would be a huge mistake, so she clenched her teeth, her gaze remaining as resistant as ever. Her captor, however, seemed to be mildly frustrated with her silence.

“What we want is information. About you, about your commanding officers, about the organization you work for. You can choose to give that information to us, or we can drag it out of you.”

Ocelot smirked. For someone who claimed to have intelligence on her, he really had no idea what he was getting himself into. This only seemed to irritate the man further, although Ocelot was mildly impressed with his attempts to hide it. She knew all too well when people were trying to bury their emotions.

When she didn’t answer, he gestured to the masked soldier again, and another bucket of cold water crashed down on her. She opened her mouth to gasp, but a scream was ripped from her throat instead when a shocking, burning pain hit her abdomen, spreading out underneath her skin like hot, thick, currents of water. Every vein and artery felt like it was about to burst, and when the pain finally stopped, she slumped forward, sucking in giant gasps of air as her heart pounded inside her chest. She looked up from underneath wet strands of hair to see her interrogator standing in front of her, holding what looked like some sort of taser.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he said. “You’re too valuable for that. But pain can be a powerful negotiator.”

He pressed a button on top of the device, and a blue, crackling line of electricity flared from the tip.

“In terms of amps, there’s not nearly enough here to cause death. But I’ve been told the pain from the shock can easily simulate the feeling of dying, under the right circumstances.”

Ocelot laughed softly, and chose her next words carefully.

“If you really think that little thing is gonna get anything out of me, then you might as well just kill me now and save us both a lot of time—”

Her shoulder was hit this time, and the ripples of electricity traveled up her neck and down her chest, making her convulse. When it stopped, an immense ache washed over her, and her entire body pulsed like a giant bruise.

“If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. I’m sure your boss will be more than willing to meet our demands in exchange for your safe return. And in the meantime, we can have our fun here,” her captor said, and Ocelot could practically see the false bravado leaking from every word.

“When you say one thing that isn’t complete bullshit,” Ocelot said, breathing heavily, “then maybe you’ll get something out of me.”

The knuckles of the man’s fist cracked against the side of her face, jerking her head to the side. Before she could recover, another blow hit her jaw, and she bit her tongue involuntarily, her mouth filling up with blood. Fingers roughly gripped her hair and wrenched her head back.

“Don’t think for one second that I won’t get what I want,” he said, leaning in close. “Everyone has their breaking points, and we’re just getting started.”

Ocelot spit in his face, a mixture of saliva and blood, and he let go of her hair to stumble back, cursing in Russian. A hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing tightly, and the soldier's blood-soaked face sneered at her.

“Fine. We’ll do this your way,” he said, and as soon as he released her neck, a bag was forced over her head, and her world went dark.

*******

Finding Ocelot had been easier than anyone had initially expected. They’d captured a few of the enemy combatants during the attack on the base, and even without his head interrogator, it wasn’t hard for Big Boss to wring information out of them. Their attackers were GRU affiliates, and the explosion on the main strut had been used, primarily, as a distraction to capture one of their higher ranking officers. Ocelot had more than made a formidable reputation for herself over the years, and she’d become an obvious target.

But Big Boss knew Ocelot, and he knew that, even if it took days to find her, the threat of an information leak wasn’t a great one. However in a matter of hours he had not only managed to pin down her location, but fight his way through the temporary GRU encampment she was being kept in as well.

Throwing open the door to the makeshift brig, Big Boss grabbed the person closest to him, a masked soldier who pointed a gun at him as soon as he entered, and turned him around so the man’s back was pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped around his neck. The soldier’s gun fired upwards, the crack of the gunshot bouncing off the walls of the room as a bullet lodged itself into the ceiling, and as the second soldier in the room turned around, Big Boss shot a tranq into his throat before snapping the neck of the man he was holding. The body slumped to the ground, lifeless, and Big Boss stepped over them to reach the figure tied to a chair in the middle of the room. He pulled the bag off of their head, and Ocelot’s sharp blue eyes peered up at him.

“Boss,” she said, sounding relieved and out of breath. Blood ran down the side of her face, stemming from a wound on her temple, and a large bruise colored her cheek. She’d been stipped down to a tanktop and a pair of pants, and Big Boss could see what looked like burn marks on her shoulders and chest. Everything from her hair to her feet was soaking wet. Still, her eyes were clear and unafraid, which is exactly what he’d expected from her.

“You know, I thought you were supposed to be good at this,” she said as he leaned down to cut her arms and legs free. “Finding Kaz didn’t take you this long.”

Big Boss took a moment to check on the severity of her head wound, as well as search her for any other serious injuries. “You were there to help me find Kaz,” he said. “I had to find you on my own.”

Ocelot grinned at him, then flinched when he probed the area around her abdomen. He lifted her shirt to find more burn-like marks matching the ones on her upper torso.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

“Dunno,” she said. “Haven’t tried. I’ve been a little tied up.”

Big Boss chose not to acknowledge the joke, radioing in for evacuation, and for someone to pick up the man he’d tranqued for questioning later.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning around and kneeling down in front of her. She slumped forward onto his back, and he hooked his hands underneath her knees.

“I guess this makes us even,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“For what?” Big Boss asked.

“For when I saved you after you woke up from that coma,” she said. “And for not letting me cum.”

  
Big Boss scoffed, although the expression on his face softened, and hearing the sound of helicopter blades chopping through the air above the base, he carried them out.


End file.
